“I don’t care,” she said in the dark bitter night as her tears flowed unending. She tasted them upon her lips, salt so bitterly sweet. She said it again as if she were grinding gravel in her throat. “I don’t really care.” Pounding her fists on the mattress of her bed.
While in the dark recesses of her mind she knew it to be a lie. She cared with all her heart.
She knew he had never seen the real her. The tortured woman beneath the masque she wore. Did he know she wore a masque?
Their meeting had been purely by chance. He was leaving the chiropractor’s office while she sat and waited for her appointment. Her eyes had followed him as he walked towards the door. After opening the door, he stopped, turned and looked at her. Looked directly in her eyes and she looked directly back at him. Then he turned and walked out the door.
She thought of him over the next several months, looked for him each time she went to her chiropractor’s appointments. She wondered if she would ever see him again. The way he had looked at her always flashed in her mind every time she thought of him.
Then one day he was there. This time fate had her waiting to the side in the small parking lot for a spot to open up. He came out the door. Saw her. And walked towards her. She watched him. Looked in his eyes as he approached. He knelt by her car as she pressed the button to lower her window. Her heart pounding in her chest.
Neither of them said anything for a moment, he just looked at her, that look that had seared into her mind before he had walked out the door.
“Give me your number. I’ll call you.” This was no request. His voice was strong, not a demand, just a statement, one she found she could not resist.
She reached into her purse, pulled out her small notepad, wrote her cell phone number down, and handed it to him. Without a word he rose. She watched him walk to his truck. She had never said a word. Hadn’t even found her voice to ask if he was married. After getting into his truck, he turned and looked at her again with that look he had given her when he had stopped before walking out the door. She knew it held a promise. But was it a promise she could live with? Was it a promise she wanted. Desired. Had sought forever for. Would he be the one who could finally give her what she needed?
He had called her. She rarely answered her cell if she didn’t recognize the incoming number. Remembering she had given him her number and he had not given his to her, she answered the unknown number when a call came in only minutes after she left the doctor’s office.
No hello. No sauntering through the pleasantries of trying to be nice or get to know her. He simply said, “I want to see you. Now. I have a table for us at White Spot where we can talk. I’ll be waiting.” He didn’t wait for her to say she would be there or that she couldn’t make it. He simply just ended the call.
Her fingers shook. With anticipation? With fear? With trepidation? Dare she not go? She knew if she didn’t she would never hear from him again. Could she live with that? No. She knew she needed to find out where this was going if anywhere. She couldn’t deny her attraction. Her curiosity. Or the arousal his demands sent spiraling through her body.
From then it had been a whirlwind. From the moment he told her to give him her number, he had taken over. She arrived at the restaurant, and was taken directly to his table. He asked her if she had any allergies or anything she definitely didn’t like. Then he ordered dinner for both of them. No one had ever just taken control and definitely not with such confidence. It was refreshing. It was nice for once not having to make all the decisions.
He didn’t ask her about her past. Only wanted to know what she liked, what she didn’t like. How she would spend her day. Where she worked. What she did. After the meal ended, he asked her what her plans were for the evening. She told him of her plans to go to Langley, to browse the bookstore, and Michael’s arts and crafts.
To her surprise he asked her if she would like his company while she browsed. She had enjoyed just being with him during dinner, and hadn’t wanted it to end so quickly. “Yes. I think I would like that.”
The evening was pleasant. He watched as she browsed, selecting a couple books for himself. He sat down in an empty chair and watched as she scanned through her various interests, selecting a few books to sit down with. Once she finished selecting her books, she looked around and found no empty seats, so she walked to where he sat. He watched her and his eyes grew wide when she lowered herself to sit at his feet by his side. She didn’t know why but it felt ‘right’. She leaned, relaxing against his leg. A moment later, she felt his hand rest upon her head and slowly comb his fingers through her hair. This was one time she was glad she never used any of those sticky sprays that other women use to try and keep their hair looking perfect all day long. The feel of his long strong fingers combing through her hair was pure bliss.
She took her time looking through her books creating one pile for the ones she wanted and another for the ones she didn’t want. Once finished, she then looked at the prices and selected a couple to purchase that would keep her within budget. All the while his hand caressed her hair, or her neck, sometimes a cheek or ear only parting briefly to turn the page of the book he read.
Once she finished selecting the books she wanted, she looked up at him, “I’m ready. I’ll just go purchase these and if you are ready we can go to Michaels.”
He helped her stand. Then she watched in disbelief when he reached down and picked up the rest of the stack of books she had wanted but had set aside and followed her to the checkout counter.
At Michaels, he walked with her throughout the store, holding her hand. She had been hesitant to have him join her on her browsing for fear he would become bored. Boredom never seemed to cross his face no matter how long she took or how often she returned over and over again to the different yarns, looking for just that right yarn. Once she started selecting a few yarns, he asked her why those particular yarns. She tried to give him a simple answer, but he asked again, and told her he was really interested in why the yarn she picked was what she wanted instead of the other yarns she had considered. She looked at him, her head tilted to one side, considering whether he was just being nice or if he really wanted to know. She decided to take him at his word that he really wanted to know, so she explained what she had been looking for and the differences between the various yarns and why composition of the yarns were important to her, especially if she was the one who would be wearing the item she made.
He seemed pleased by her answer, or was it because she took such care in her selection. No matter which it was she felt a secret thrill that he appeared pleased with something she did.
He helped her carry the stack of yarn in one hand while taking her other hand in his. She loved the feel of his hand, strong and yet gentle, and warm, so warm just the simple touch warmed her whole body.
When they stopped at her car to unload the items she purchased, he placed the books he had purchased in her bags. She tried to refuse, but he tilted her head up so she would be looking him in the eyes and leaned close, so close she could feel his moist breath upon her lips.
“This is my choice. I do this for you. Accept it. I ask for nothing in return other than for you to enjoy the books.”
“Thank you.” She didn’t recognize the breathlessly husky voice as she stated those simple two words. The whole evening somehow had been one single erotic trip and yet all they had done was keep each other company, with only holding hands, or slight touches here and there.
She felt his lips ever so lightly, press against her lips in a chaste kiss, all the while looking into each other’s eyes.
He pulled away and she felt as though her soul had suddenly vacated her body, she felt so empty.
Just before turning away to get in his truck, he told her, “I’ll follow you back home. Please, drive carefully.”
She stood for a moment stunned by it all, as she watched him get into his truck. She didn’t move until he turned and looked at her then raised one eyebrow as if to say, “are you going to stand there all night.”
With shaking fingers she opened her door, got into her car, sucking air into starved lungs having forgotten to breathe.
Backing into her driveway she found herself rather surprised she had made it home in one piece. She had probably looked in her rear view mirror more times than she had looked out her windshield as she drove home, always looking to see if he was still there, behind her, following her home. Even now, he sat in his truck, watching her park and didn’t leave until she had closed her front door behind her.
She had never had a day like she had had that day. A day she had not wanted to end. A day so different from anything she had ever experienced with a man unlike any she had ever met.
He called her just before she turned out the light to go to bed. When she answered, all he said was ‘good night.’ When she returned his good night, he ended the call. Such a simple thing that for some reason made her heart soar.
Not long after she woke, her cell phone rang. It was him. He asked what she had scheduled for her day. She told him of the various meetings. He asked how long each meeting was scheduled, then ended the call. She realized he was methodical, very methodical. Each thing he did and asked or said gathered more and more information about her. She had never had a man take such an interest in everything she did. She wasn’t sure if she would like that in the long haul but right now she was enjoying what appeared to be his total interest in her.
She had a two hour break between meetings. No sooner had the last meeting before her break ended, and her doorbell rang. Opening the door she was surprised to find him standing there holding what looked to be Chinese takeout.
She let him in. “What are you doing here?”
“Bringing you lunch.” As he leaned in and gave her a peck on the cheek.
She smiled, turned and walked towards the kitchen. As soon as he entered the kitchen he took over, finding the plates, silverware, he set the food out on the table and told her to sit. He even dished out food for her and set her plate in front of her. Finishing eating, they worked together cleaning up and putting the leftovers in the fridge. Before she knew what was happening, turning around after closing the fridge door, she found her back pressed up against the door with his firm body pressing against her and his mouth and tongue dancing along her neck, leaving a heated trail up to her jaw, and across to her lips.
His lips captured hers, devoured her as if he were a starving man who hadn’t just eaten a meal. Not even remembering moving her arms, she found one hand pressed flat against his chest and her other sliding up his strong shoulder to wrap around his neck, pulling him in closer as her mouth opened, her tongue meeting his with just as much hunger.
For the next hour and a half, he devoured her. Every inch of her body, taking her to places she had never been. He took control and she loved every minute, every succulent second. He unleashed something in her, she had only suspected had existed. He assaulted her senses, blinding her to everything except his touch. After a while, he slowly brought her down, bringing her back into her semi-functioning mind. Telling her, she had a meeting in a few minutes.
Startled, she looked at the time. He held her firmly against him when she tried to get up to get dressed. “Get your phone and come back here. Don’t get dressed.” Her insides trembled with the implications of his statements. The meeting she had didn’t require much from her except for maybe inserting a few comments for updates to projects she worked on, so she did as he requested.
It was oddly comforting, exciting, arousing, and quite naughty to lie in bed with him touching her while she listened in during her meeting. She hoped her voice sounded normal whenever she had to speak but to her ears she sounded rather breathless. Did they notice? They being all the men she worked with. She was the only woman out of fourteen in their group, along with her boss. Could they tell she was aroused? She kept the phone muted when she didn’t have to speak, which was a good thing especially when he decided to use his tongue in a very sensitive place between her legs and she shattered into a million pieces only moments after. By the end of the meeting, he was driving his cock deep inside of her and she had given up on paying any attention to her meeting. God help her but he was becoming an addiction.
Her days and evenings were never the same after that. She never knew when he would show up. Never knew when he would leave. When he left she felt a part of her go with him. When he arrived she felt the missing part of her finally making her whole again.
He had taken over her life.
He had become her life.
When he showed up in the evenings, he would either bring dinner with him, or what was needed to make dinner. He would cook while she sat and they talked or sometimes he would have her assist him. Sometimes dinner would be interrupted by something said or done or a simple heated look from him. Other times, after dinner she found comfort in either reading while sitting at his feet like she had in the bookstore, or sometimes knitting while they watched a movie, always anticipating what would come next. His control. His demands. They fed her. They fed parts of her that had never been fed before.
But every day, every night, he left her. He left her to sleep alone. He left her to ponder the deep dark night all alone, wondering where it was he went. What it was he did. Who it was he might be with.
At first, she didn’t mind.
At first, she just enjoyed the time he spent with her.
At first, she was satisfied with what he gave her.
Then the day came, when he didn’t show up. When he didn’t come to her door. When he didn’t call.
On the first day, she told herself, something came up.
On the second day, she told herself maybe he had an emergency, and it kept him from her.
On the third day, she realized, he had no excuse for not calling her and at least telling her it was over. So she picked up her cell phone, looked up the number she had saved from his calls, and listened for the call to connect. “I’m sorry but the number you have reached appears to be out of order, please try again later.” Then she realized she knew nothing about him, not even his last name. She had nothing to go on except his phone number to try and find him. Not even a photograph to show around to ask if anyone knew him. She knew a doctor’s office would never give out personal information. All she could do was wait and hope, he would come back. Or someday to run into him and she could ask him ‘why’.
On the fourth day, she told herself “I don’t care.”
She told herself until the tears flowed and she could no longer stop them.
She told herself until she pounded her fists into the bed and screamed herself hoarse into the pillows inhaling his scent that she could not bring herself to wash away.
She told herself until she smothered her feelings and became numb.
And she kept telling herself until her world had lost all color and she wondered whether she would die from his absence.
read part 2 here